THE FLYING DUTCHMAN.
187
The judgment words swept o'er the sea: "Go, wretch, accurst, condemned!
Go sail for ever on the deep, by shrieking tempests hemmed.
No home, no port, no calm, no rest, no gentle fav'ring breeze.
Shall ever greet thee. Go, accurst! and battle with the seas!
Go, braggart! struggle with the storm, nor ever cease to live.
But bear a million times the pangs that death and fear can give.
Away! and hide thy guilty head, a curse to all thy kind
Who ever see thee struggling, wretch, with ocean and with wind.
Away, presumptuous worm of earth! Go teach thy fellow-worms
The awful fate that waits on him who braves the King of Storms!"
